


Finding Home by babs

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel's home but things are still a bit rocky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Home by babs

The cramps woke him from a restless sleep. Daniel groaned as he rolled out of bed and walked hunched over to the bathroom. Bile rose in his throat and he got to his knees in front of the toilet, dry heaving. Ten minutes later he was wondering how on earth anything could be left inside of him. He shivered as his fever rose, and sweat coated his face.

So much for finishing up getting all his stuff unpacked in his new house, he thought before a new bout of cramps had him doubled over once more. The night and early morning became surreal-a haze of pain and fever. By the time sunlight was lighting a small patch of tile in the bathroom, Daniel was certain he was going to die. He'd felt fine when he came home from the Mountain yesterday morning. SG-1 had completed a mission with no mishaps and despite Jack's urgings for company, Daniel had begged off, coming home instead to his new house. He'd eaten some chicken he'd bought from the supermarket deli a day before their latest mission and then settled down to trying to get things organized. At least he hadn't needed to worry about all the paperwork involved in bringing a man back from the dead. General Hammond and his staff had taken care of those details with supreme efficiency. Unpacking was taking him longer than usual, memories surfacing with each box he sorted through. He knew Jack would have helped if he'd asked, but this was something he needed to do alone. Needed to feel he had some control over his life once more. And now the few days off he had were evidently going to be spent being sick.

Daniel pushed himself up from the floor and stood on wobbly legs. He knew he was getting dehydrated, the headache behind his eyes and the fact he'd stopped sweating a sure sign of it. For a moment he thought of calling Jack but then decided against it. There was no point another member of SG-1 got sick too. Besides he was pretty sure Jack was talking about going up to Denver for some sports something or other. He'd fill a water bottle, grab a pack of saltines, and go back to bed. It wasn't as if he hadn't taken care of himself when sick before. Memories of doing just that were vivid in his mind. He promised himself if he didn't feel better by the afternoon he would call Janet Fraiser, but it appeared the worst of it was over.

Whoa, he was dizzy. Daniel stopped walking about halfway to his kitchen, standing still until the moment passed. Cramps in his stomach caused him to curl over, holding his belly and spots danced behind his eyes. He raised his head, thinking he could make it to the couch. Daniel managed one step, then two before his world went black.  


* * *

  
Jack whistled as he strode up the sidewalk to Daniel's house. Daniel may have insisted he didn't need help to get all his stuff unpacked, but Jack knew better. The task of packing up all of Daniel's belongings after Kelowna, after Daniel was...gone...was still a memory that haunted Jack's dreams. So much for putting things away as a healing activity. Every thing he'd touched, a framed photo of SG-1 taken after they were reunited after Klorel's ship, a sketch of Sha're Daniel must have drawn while on Abydos, a ticket stub from the Colorado Avalanche game they'd gone a few months before stuck in Daniel's personal journal as a book mark, all of them had sent Jack down memory lane, and he'd set himself to the task with single minded determination, unwilling to allow others to help.

He wanted new memories now. Daniel being returned to them was an unbelievable gift. Their friendship had gotten far off-track before, and he wasn't even sure why. Jack only knew that a year without Daniel in his life was a year he didn't want to ever live again. They were settling back into what felt right, a rhythm to their relationship, a give and take of equals-at least on the work front. The easy friendship they'd had outside of work was taking a little bit longer to rebuild. But at least he knew Daniel wouldn't kick him out. Daniel would insist he didn't need help, Jack would persuade him he did, and another brick would be added to the foundation that had crumbled into disrepair.

Jack knocked on the door, surprised no music was coming from the house. When there was no sound from inside, Jack frowned. He'd seen Daniel's car parked in the street.

Knocking again, he called, "Daniel?" Jack shook his hand after he pounded on the door once more. He'd told Daniel he needed to get the doorbell fixed. Maybe he could work on it later. Jack dug in his pocket for the key to the house. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Daniel had given him the copy when Jack had helped him move in.

"You used to have one, didn't you?" Daniel had asked, studying the floor after offering the key like a present.

"Yeah. I had one." Jack nodded and stuck the key on his ring right next to his own house key feeling that there was something right about the gesture.

The smell of sickness hit him as soon as he opened the door, and Jack's heart pounded in his chest when there was no sign of Daniel.

"Daniel?" he looked in the bedroom, seeing a pile of dirty clothes in the corner and wrinkling his nose at the smell emanating from them. The bed had been slept in, but the blanket was falling half off the bed. The bathroom door was half closed and Jack knocked on it before opening it. Jack closed it just as quickly when the smell of vomit and other bodily functions assaulted his nose.

He walked back into the living room and headed down the short hall to the kitchen.

"Daniel!" Jack's mouth went dry when he discovered the other man lying in the doorway to the small kitchen. He got to his knees, reaching out to feel for a pulse when there was no response from his friend. The heartbeat raced under his fingertips, and Jack was reaching for his cell phone when Daniel let out a groan.

"Daniel?" Jack shook at his shoulder. "Daniel? You with me?"

"Unnhuhh."

"Daniel?" Jack turned him over.

Blue eyes opened a slit. "Jack?"

"That would be me. You wanna tell me what you're doing on the floor?" Jack was concerned at how weak Daniel seemed, his hand barely able to find purchase in Jack's khakis.

"Huh? Floor?" Daniel pushed his hands to the floor, and Jack saw his expression change to one of alarm.

"Hang on, buddy." Jack put his hands under Daniel's armpits and pulled him up, supporting most of his weight when it seemed Daniel wasn't going to take much of his own.

"Bathroom." Daniel gasped and they made their way down the hall, Jack knocking his elbow against the wall and trying to keep Daniel from ending up face down on the floor.

"Agh." Daniel clutched at his stomach, and Jack held him up as he opened the bathroom door. "Leave me alone, Jack."

"I've seen you throw up before, Daniel."

"Not gonna throw up." Daniel said between gritted teeth.

"Ah," Jack helped him to the toilet and then left the small room, letting the door open slightly. "I'm going to get you some water and juice, Daniel." Jack called in, trying to ignore the pained sounds coming from the bathroom.

He walked back to the kitchen, searching for a glass in the cabinet. A take-out carton was on the counter marked with the name of a local supermarket, and Jack was on the phone to Fraiser.

"Hey doc. I'm at Daniel's. I think he might have food poisoning. Wasn't there a story on the news today about contaminated chicken from Webster's? Yeah, well, he seems pretty sick. I found him on the floor when I got here. I don't know how long he's been sick." Jack filled a glass with water, closing the refrigerator door with disgust when he saw the empty shelves. He listened to Fraiser's instructions. "Yeah, I think Mercy General is the closest. I can take him there. I'll call you from there."

By the time Jack got back to the bedroom, Daniel was standing at the door. Standing might not have been the best word for it, Jack quickly revised. He slipped an arm around Daniel's waist, supporting him and taking some of his weight, not liking the tremors he felt beneath his hands.

"Here, Daniel, try and take a few sips of this." Jack held the glass to Daniel's lips when Daniel made no effort to take the glass himself.

"Blood," Daniel whispered. "There was blood."

"When you just...?" Jack jerked his head back in the direction of the bathroom.

Daniel's breath was coming in short gasps, but he managed to nod.

"Okay, let's get you lying down in bed." Jack started to take a step and had to turn to ease Daniel to the floor as his friend's legs buckled. He kept one hand on Daniel's chest as he hit the speed dial for Fraiser. Daniel's heart was pounding under his hand as if the other man had just been running.

"Doc, Daniel just told me there was blood when he went to the bathroom and he's passed out on the floor now. His heart is going a mile a minute." Jack's words tumbled out in his fear for his friend. This wasn't like being on a mission where he knew strategy. All he knew now was that Daniel was in deep trouble.

"Colonel, I want you to get a pillow and elevate his feet." Jack scrambled on hands and knees and pulled a pillow off the bed.

"Okay, doc. Got the pillow under his feet.."

"How's his breathing?" Fraiser's voice was calm. "Transport is on its way. They should be there in about ten or fifteen minutes. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, doc. I understand. His breathing sounds normal now, but it sounded like he was gasping earlier."

"Can you take his pulse for me?" Fraiser continued. "Do you have it, sir?"

"I have it." Jack pressed fingers to Daniel's neck. "It's too fast, doc."

"Start counting now." Fraiser ordered and Jack concentrated on the racing beat under his fingers, trying to concentrate only on counting and not on the pallor of Daniel's skin.

"Stop." Fraiser told him and asked for the number. "Can you rouse him, sir? Is Daniel responsive?"

"I'll check." Jack put the phone on the floor and tapped Daniel's cheek. "Daniel. Come on, Daniel. Wake up." He was rewarded by a slight fluttering of Daniel's eyelids. Encouraged by the movement, Jack tapped his face once more. "Hey, wake up." Daniel turned his head and frowned, opening his eyes and looking at Jack.

"Jack? You here?" Daniel mumbled.

"He's awake, doc." Jack said into the phone. He moved so Daniel could see him better. "I'm just talking to Doc Fraiser, Daniel. She's got an ambulance on the way."

Daniel stared at him as if he was speaking an unfamiliar language. He licked at his lips. "Thirsty." He managed to say before pulling his arms across his stomach. "Jack, help."

Jack saw the heaving begin and rolled Daniel to his side as the little bit of water Daniel had drunk came back up.

"Sorry," Daniel gasped out as he began heaving once more.

"Help's on the way, Daniel." Jack felt helpless, as helpless as he'd felt a year ago when his best friend lay bandaged and dying on a bed in the infirmary. Damn it, he wasn't going to let Daniel be taken from him again. He wasn't going to allow Daniel to suffer alone this time. "I'm right here," he said, rubbing a circle on Daniel's back as he reached for the phone.

"Doc, where the hell is that ambulance?" Jack barked into the phone, regretting it when he saw Daniel's wince.

"They'll soon be there, sir. You need to stay calm. Daniel needs you to stay calm." Fraiser continued speaking in her professional manner. "Can you hear the ambulance? They just turned up Daniel's street."

Jack pulled the phone away from his ear but didn't take his hand off of Daniel's back. The siren came closer and Jack spoke into the phone. "I'm coming with him, doc."

"I know, sir. I already told the medics to allow you in the ambulance." Fraiser said. "They'll take good care of him until he gets to me. You need to go let them in the house, sir. I'll be waiting for Daniel here."

Jack nodded, only realizing after he hit the off switch that Fraiser couldn't see him through the phone. "Door's open." He shouted to the medics who were knocking on the door. "We're in here."

Jack recognized the two medics from the infirmary and scooted out of their way. Within a minute, they had Daniel on IV lines, hooked up to a heart monitor and oxygen and on the gurney.

"Doctor Fraiser said you are to come with us, sir." One of them said as they began wheeling Daniel through the house.

Getting to his feet awkwardly, Jack followed them out the door and down the sidewalk. The ride to the base was one he would always remember as a blur. He sat on the bench opposite from Daniel, pulling his legs up to keep them out of the way of the medics. Jack wasn't an expert on medical speak by any stretch of the imagination but he was excellent at reading people, and the controlled chaos surrounding Daniel's body told him things were definitely going to hell in a hand basket.

A burst of even more frantic activity a few miles from the base entrance had Jack leaning forward, trying to understand. He could hear Daniel's breathing, seeming even more labored in the past few minutes. A noxious odor filled the ambulance, and Jack closed his eyes as he heard Daniel groaning. He clenched his fists and hit his thighs.

"Let's go," one of the medics called as they pulled inside the mountain. Jack felt caught up in a whirlwind as they rushed Daniel to the infirmary, and he followed.

"Doc, he started having PVCs a few minutes ago. They've been increasing in frequency. BP is 80 over 40 and falling. Patient has been non-responsive to verbal stimulation although he roused to pain."

Fraiser nodded her head, looking up to see Jack standing there. "Colonel O'Neill I need you to leave." She turned her attention back to Daniel, glancing at the monitors. "Now, Colonel, sir."

Jack nodded, leaving the room, his own stomach turning somersaults. He heard Fraiser giving some rapid fire order and then her command to Daniel. "Stay with me, Doctor Jackson." And for some reason, that had him chilled to his core.

Two hours, thirty seven minutes and twenty three, no make that twenty four second. That was how long he was sitting in a plastic chair waiting for Fraiser to come out and tell him how Daniel was doing. His lower back ached, and his knee was giving him hell for kneeling on Daniel's hardwood floor. Jack leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, visions of Daniel's pale face appearing in his mind every time he closed his eyes.

"Sir?"

Jack's head came up at Carter's voice. "What are you doing here, Carter? I thought you were headed up to Aspen." He squinted, his eyes gritty. "Teal'c? Weren't you supposed to be teaching some sort of class at the Academy?"

"I was, O'Neill. The cadets were rapid learners. MajorCarter provided transportation for me."

"General Hammond called me, sir. He told me Daniel's sick." Carter's eyes flicked from Jack to the infirmary doors and back again. "Sir?"

"I don't know, Carter." Jack slowly rotated his head from left to right, hearing a crackling noise as he did so. "He ate some chicken...you know Daniel, he doesn't usually turn on his radio or TV to catch up on anything, so he probably missed the news that the stuff was contaminated."

"How long, sir?" Carter was worried. He could tell by the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers tapping on her thigh.

"Carter, I said I don't know." Jack rubbed at his hair. He stood up, motioning for her to sit. If Fraiser didn't come out of there in the next five minutes, he didn't give a damn. He was going in there to find out just what was taking so long.

"O'Neill. Perhaps you are in need of sustenance." Teal'c offered.

"What I'm in need of is knowing what's going on." Jack said, his words sharper than he intended. He couldn't stand this waiting. It reminded him too much of waiting before, waiting for Daniel to die in his own fluids while his insides melted away. Jack took eleven steps, enough to get him away from the others, enough for him to start to exorcise those memories, enough for him to try to forget his failings. The pacing didn't help, he decided. He looked at the cement wall and wondered if he could put his fist through it-the need to do something, anything overwhelming. He rested his hand on the wall, letting the cold seep into his fingers.

"Janet?" Carter sounded scared, and Jack turned to see Fraiser standing near the chair.

"How is he, doc?" Jack took those eleven steps back, searching the doctor's face for some clue to Daniel's condition. He wasn't overjoyed at what he saw there.

"Definitely food poisoning, sir. You were right." She nodded in his direction. "He's dehydrated. From what we were able to gather from Daniel, he got sick sometime last night and spent most of that time vomiting. It's good you found him when you did, Colonel, because his condition was deteriorating." She placed her hands in her lab coat pockets. "We have him on IVs to replace the fluids. We're also giving him a unit of blood due to bleeding. His blood pressure remains low, and we're keeping a close eye on that. We have him hooked up to a heart monitor. He was exhibiting some heart arrhythmias when he was brought in. I have every reason to believe that will resolve itself as we get his electrolytes back in balance. His temperature is high but isn't going higher for now which is a good sign." She stopped looking at all of them.

Jack saw Teal'c place a hand on Carter's shoulder. Looking at the infirmary doors, Jack motioned to Fraiser. "Can I see him?" he said, his voice coming out hoarse and almost a whisper.

Fraiser hesitated. "We've moved him to the intensive care unit, sir. For now, Daniel is being monitored closely."

If he needed to, Jack was ready to beg, but it wasn't necessary as Fraiser studied his face.

"I'll give you a few minutes, sir, but that's it. I don't want any added stress on Daniel." She held out her hand, indicating for him to walk ahead of her.

"Sir?"

Jack turned at Carter's soft call, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Will you tell him Teal'c and I are thinking of him?"

"Yeah, yeah, Carter. I'll do that." He nodded and followed Fraiser through the doors.

The ICU in the infirmary wasn't big, not much more than a few beds in a more secluded area arranged in a semi-circle to allow easier access for the medical staff.

"Sir," Fraiser stopped him with one arm on his hand, "we've given Daniel an injection of morphine for the pain. He's not going to be very awake. He's hooked up to a lot of equipment. As I said, I believe Daniel will make a full recovery."

"He'll know I'm there." Jack said. If there was one thing he was sure of it was that.

Daniel looked small, that was Jack's first thought seeing him lying in the bed. He had to close his eyes and shake his head when bandages superimposed themselves on Daniel's form. 'Get a grip,' Jack told himself and took the few steps to the bed.

"Hey, Daniel." Jack said, keeping his voice low.

An IV line snaked from near Daniel's collarbone while another line fed blood into his arm. Bags hung from the side of the bed, and Jack quickly averted his eyes from those. Although he couldn't see them, Jack knew the wires coming out from underneath Daniel's hospital gown were connected to the heart monitor. A clip on the end of Daniel's right index finger monitored oxygen in his blood. Jack could hear Daniel's breathlessness even with the oxygen being provided by a nasal cannula.

"Hey there, buddy." Jack whispered, placing his palm on Daniel's forehead, the only place he felt was safe to touch him. Although Fraiser had warned him there was a fever, he wasn't prepared for how hot Daniel felt. "How you doing?"

Daniel turned his head at Jack's voice, opening his eyes and blinking a few times. "Papa? I feel sick, Papa. It hurts."

"It's me, Daniel." Jack bent closer, his throat hurting with the lump that had formed there. "Jack. You're in the infirmary, Daniel. At the SGC. You're gonna be okay."

"Hurts." Daniel repeated. "Make it stop hurting."

"Hey, the doc is giving you some of her happy juice. It's gonna stop, Daniel. I promise." Jack brushed back Daniel's hair from his forehead. "You're sick, but you're gonna get better."

"Don't want to die. Jack, don't want to die alone." Daniel murmured, rolling his head away from Jack and his touch.

Jack let his hand fall to the pillow, his mouth gone dry.

"Sir, you'll need to go now." Fraiser whispered, and Jack straightened from his bent position.

"He thought I was his dad." Jack looked down at her. He wouldn't tell her the other, the accusation of his mistakes.

"He's on pretty strong medication, sir. And combined with the infection, I'm not surprised he's confused." Fraiser said. She looked at the monitors and gave a small nod. Jack wasn't sure if it meant good or bad.

"You can come back in two hours, Colonel O'Neill. Not before then."

"Yes, doc." Jack said. He was going to get Carter to drive him to Daniel's apartment to pick up his truck and while he was there, he figured he could at least get the mess of Daniel's sickness cleaned up.  


* * *

  
The drive to Daniel's house was eerily reminiscent of one he'd done months ago, except this time Carter was driving him instead of him being alone in his truck with only a CD for company.

"Do you need any help, sir?" Carter asked and he looked up, surprised to see they were already at their destination.

"Nah, I'm just going to go in and check on stuff and then I'll come back to base. You'll call if..." He fingered the keys in his pocket as he got out of her car, glad he didn't have to see with his knees nearly to his ears any longer.

"I'll call, sir." She leaned forward to give him a slight wave. He nodded and went into the building.

Entering Daniel's house, Jack breathed through his mouth, hoping to avoid the worst of the stench. He opened the back door and all the windows, letting the cold air in. Jack stripped the bed and gathered Daniel's clothes, relieved Daniel had a washer and dryer. He threw them in the washer, turned the water to hot and added a cup of detergent. Grabbing the bleach, he made his way to the bathroom and began cleaning, finding an outlet for his worry in the physical activity. When the buzzer went off telling him the wash was done, he stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes stinging from the smell of disinfectant. Making his way back to the small alcove where Daniel kept his washer and dryer, Jack switched the load to the dryer, and then decided to tackle the other rooms where Daniel had been sick.

Jack looked around the house once more as he prepared to leave. There had been no phone call from Carter, allowing him the time to clean as best he could. He had locked everything up once more and frowned as he took in the boxes still stacked in the corners. But then again, Daniel had been busy since his return from his glowy time with Oma. Maybe too busy. Jack wondered if all the missions and stresses were too much for a descended body. He'd have to ask Fraiser about that.

He was back in the infirmary one minute before his two hours were up. A familiar nurse was standing near Daniel's bed, and she turned at Jack's approach.

"Colonel O'Neill," she acknowledged before turning her eyes back to the monitors.

Jack hooked a chair with his foot, pulling it over to the side of the bed. "I'm staying," he announced before sitting down.

"Yes, sir." Captain Wagner said, smiling. "Doctor Fraiser said you would." She leaned over the bed, speaking to Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

There was no response from the man in the bed, and Jack raised his eyebrows at the nurse.

"He's not totally aware, Colonel O'Neill, but we've found talking to him is helping to keep him calm."

Jack nodded as she walked away then pulled his chair even closer to the bed. He rested his arm on the bed rail and placed his hand on Daniel's forehead once more.

"Hey there, Daniel. I'm back." Jack paused, not really sure what to say. "I went to your apartment and cleaned things up a little bit." He was rewarded by Daniel's eyes opening and seeing a sliver of blue.

"Jack?" Daniel rolled his head towards him, and Jack leaned forward, hoping Daniel could see him. "Dying? Again?"

"No," Jack shook his head, not sure Daniel was watching. He moved, cupping the top of Daniel's head in his hand, remembering hating himself for months after Daniel had ascended because he hadn't been able to bring comfort to Daniel as he lay dying. "No, Daniel. You ate some bad food and got sick. Remember? Doc Fraiser is fixing you up."

"Okay." Daniel sighed. "Sleep now."

"That's fine. You get some rest." Jack whispered. He watched as the lines of pain on Daniel's face smoothed out and allowed himself to relax a little.

The rest of the day and into the night passed in a haze of fifteen minute intervals, although Jack couldn't help noticing that Fraiser had been the person coming for the last couple of hours. As she finished her latest check and stood frowning at the monitors and chart she held, Jack stood.

"What's going on with Daniel?"

When Fraiser didn't answer right away, only looked at him and frowned, he waved his hand. "Come on, doc. I know there's something going on. You're not frowning for nothing."

Frasier looked at the monitors once more and then motioned for Jack to step away from Daniel's bed. She began speaking when they stood a few beds away.

"Daniel's not responding to the medication as quickly as I'd hoped. He's still exhibiting PVCs, and I'm concerned about his kidney functioning too."

"PVCs? You gotta give me a clue here, doc. That's what the medics were talking about when they brought him in."

"Premature ventricular contractions, sir." At Jack's confused look she continued. "The lower chambers of his heart are beating too fast and too early. When this happens, there isn't any blood being pumped out to his body because the upper chambers aren't being allowed time to transfer the blood to the lower chambers. It is potentially life threatening, sir. But we are trying to control the irregular heart beat with medications and are replacing the needed electrolytes as we speak, but...we should be seeing more improvement by now."

"You don't think this is because of, you know," Jack made a twirling gesture above his head, "his glowing phase?"

"I'm not sure what's causing it, Colonel O'Neill. But know that we are keeping a close eye on him. I'm not planning on anything less than a full recovery."

Jack nodded and smiled at her. "Good then, doc. Sounds like we're on the same team."

"Sir, you must be tired." Fraiser looked back at Daniel's bed. "Why don't you take a break? Sam is still on base, and Teal'c has been haunting the halls since he found out."

Jack glanced at the bed by Daniel's, feeling as if he could no longer move, his limbs heavy.

"Go on, sir." She pointed at the bed. "If there is any change I'll wake you."

Stretching out on the bed after taking off his boots, Jack turned on his side to keep an eye on Daniel. Except for a few disjointed phrases, Daniel hadn't been the best conversation partner. Jack heard footsteps a short time later and watched as Carter and Teal'c took up positions by the bed. He closed his eyes, listening to Carter speaking softly to Daniel, to Teal'c's bass adding counterpoint.

"Sir? Colonel O'Neill?" A different voice was calling him, and Jack opened his eyes, sitting up in the bed and looking at Fraiser. His brain wasn't quite online, and he looked to Daniel's bed, relieved to see his friend appeared to be resting comfortably with Carter half-asleep in the chair beside his bed and Teal'c standing on the other side with eyes closed.

"Doc? Is he okay?"

A smile graced the doctor's face. "He's stabilized, sir. I thought you'd want to know."

"Doing better?"

"He's going to be sleeping off and on for the next twenty four hours, and I'm not thinking of releasing him until later in the week, but yes, I'd say Doctor Jackson's condition has improved considerably."

Jack sat up, rubbing at his hair. He needed a cup of coffee and some food in his stomach but first he needed to reassure himself Fraiser was telling him the truth.

"Good morning, sir." Carter murmured, her hair sticking up and her face red from where it had been resting on her hand.

"Didn't mean to wake you, Carter." Jack kept his voice low. He looked at Daniel who appeared to be sleeping comfortably, the lines of pain eased.

"I heard Janet talking to you." Carter shifted and then stood up, stretching. She smiled at Jack. "We're going to go get some breakfast, sir. Would you like to join Teal'c and me?"

"DoctorFraiser reported that DanielJackson will sleep at least two more hours." Teal'c relaxed his stance and looked at Jack across Daniel's bed.

"I think I'm going to stay here. I wouldn't want Daniel to wake up alone." Jack made a shooing motion with his hands, indicating Carter and Teal'c should go.

"We'll bring you something to eat, sir. And some coffee." Carter said. She touched Daniel's hand. "I'm glad he's better, sir."

"Me too, Carter. Me too." Jack smiled at her and sat down in the chair she'd abandoned, listening to the even sound of Daniel's breathing and glancing at the monitors even though he had no idea what they were saying.

"I'm here, Daniel. Any time you're ready to wake up, I'm here." Jack said to his sleeping friend and then settled back to keep watch.  


* * *

  
"Hey," A weak voice drew Jack's attention away from the report he was reading.

"Hey, Daniel." Jack moved the chair closer so Daniel could see him more easily. "How you feeling?"

Daniel frowned and squinted up at Jack. "Um, like I've been run over by a freight train." He looked away, his eyes roaming towards the medical monitors, before he watched Jack once more. "I'm guessing that's not what happened."

"Nope." Jack grinned. "Let's just say that from now on any recalls on food will be reported to any returning SG teams."

"Chicken." Daniel muttered. "The chicken from Webster's?"

"Got it in one, Daniel." Jack looked up as Doctor Warner appeared at Daniel's bedside. "Afternoon, Doc," he said.

Doctor Warner smiled at both of them. "Good afternoon, Colonel, Doctor Jackson." He pulled out his stethoscope. "Let's see how you're doing, Doctor Jackson."

It was a measure of Daniel's exhaustion when there was no comment of, 'I'm fine.'

"I'll be back a little later, Daniel." Jack picked up his report, figuring he could get it to General Hammond's office and then manage a shower before he came back.

"You look tired, Jack." Daniel commented and then yawned. "Maybe you should, um, go home or something, get some rest."

"I'll be back," Jack repeated and gave a little salute behind Warner's back, relieved when he saw a small smile appear on Daniel's face.  


* * *

  
"You know, Daniel, Jello is a solid, not a liquid." Jack was ready to take the spoon out of Daniel's hand and play airplane to get the food into Daniel's mouth.

"I don't know, Jack. Jello properties could be debated." Daniel sighed.

"Fraiser and Warner won't let you out of here until you start eating again." Maybe that threat would work.

Daniel took a spoonful of the Jello and grimaced as he put it in his mouth. He then turned his glare on Jack before he swallowed.

"See that wasn't so bad." Jack said as Daniel dutifully took another spoonful.

"Easy for you to say." Daniel muttered. "I want to go home."

"Then eat your Jello. Fraiser might be generous and spring you tomorrow." They'd been having these battle for the past two days. Afraid of getting sick again, Daniel was trying to avoid food while Jack and the medical staff tried to convince him he needed to start eating. "Come on, Daniel. You've got to rebuild your strength."

"On Jello?" Daniel raised expressive eyebrows above his glasses along with his voice, but he continued eating under Jack's watchful eyes. " There," he said a few minutes later, pushing the table away. "Happy?"

Jack ducked his head so Daniel wouldn't see his smile. Sometimes Daniel was worse than a toddler in his stubbornness. When he'd managed to wipe the smile from his face, Jack looked up once more. "Yes, Daniel. I'm happy."

Daniel humphed and crossed his arms over his chest, the gesture losing some of its effectiveness because worn out as Daniel was, he wound up dropping his arms to his sides a second or two later. He rolled to his side, watching Jack. "I can't remember getting here. I remember feeling sick and then waking up in here a few days ago."

"You were pretty out of it, Daniel." Jack moved closer, reaching out to take Daniel's glasses off. "You really shouldn't do this, you know," he chided as he held the glasses. "You'll bend them out of shape." The metal still held some of Daniel's body heat, and Jack was reluctant to put them down, remembering holding a pair he'd found in Daniel's office after he'd made the decision to let Daniel go. The metal had been cold then and he'd stuck the glasses back on a drawer of the desk, unable to bear looking at them any longer.

"Jack?" The soft voice brought him back to the moment, and he had to blink a few times to get Daniel in focus.

"Daniel?"

"Thank you. For you know. Not leaving." Daniel moved his hand, a weak gesture at the rest of his body. A tear trickled down his cheek, and Jack watched as it slipped onto the pillow. More tears followed, but Daniel seemed unaware of them.

"Here." Jack grabbed a tissue and pressed it in Daniel's hand. "You might want to..."he finished by making a wiping motion with his finger.

Daniel obeyed, looking at the wet tissue in wonder. "Sorry," he murmured. "Sorry. I don't know why..."

"You've been pretty sick, Daniel. Everything is probably still all out of whack." Jack coughed trying to clear the lump in his throat at the show of emotion.

Daniel nodded and rolled onto his back. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling. "You gonna stay awhile, Jack?"

Jack slid his hand through the bed rail, squeezing Daniel's hand gently. "I'm gonna stay. Why don't you try and get a little more sleep?" He'd screwed up being there for his best friend before. There was no way he was going to do it again.  


* * *

  
For the first time in over a week, Daniel walked down the sidewalk to his new house, although this time he wasn't alone. He looked at Jack sideways, who was looking as though he thought Daniel was going to keel over any second. Granted, Daniel was still a little shaky, and he knew that despite Janet's assurances to the colonel that yes, Daniel was ready to go home and yes Daniel was well on the way to recovery, Jack still didn't believe her. It might have had something to do with his inability to stay awake for longer than a few hours or with the pale features Daniel had seen looking back at him when Janet finally allowed him to take a shower the day before.

Jack shifted the small bag that held Daniel's clothes to his other hand while he rummaged in his pocket for the key to the house. Daniel bit down the words he wanted to say, fought the urge to tell Jack he was a big boy and could do it himself. Something was bothering Jack, something more than Daniel winding up in the infirmary, and Daniel was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Welcome home, Daniel." Jack said as he opened the door with a flourish.

It didn't feel like home yet, Daniel thought. He hadn't even gotten all his stuff unpacked yet with all the missions they'd been on since his return although that wasn't really an excuse. He was used to moving around and getting his apartments set up fairly quickly. But dying had a way of making you think twice about putting down roots.

Unless he'd managed to unpack boxes and arrange his belongings when he was sick and delirious, someone had done it for him. Daniel turned in a slow circle as he stood in his living room. He made a beeline for the bookshelves, touching the framed pictures of Sha're, the one of him and his parents in Egypt, and one of SG-1 taken just after they'd been reunited after they'd been on Klorel's ship.

"Jack?" He turned back to see Jack standing by the sofa watching him.

"I didn't know how you wanted stuff arranged, Daniel. If you don't like the way I did it, I can do it again, and you can boss me around." Jack gestured at the room before giving a hesitant grin.

Shaking his head, still stunned by the display of friendship, Daniel sat down in the closest chair. "This is fine, Jack. I've been living here for a few months, and I still hadn't gotten around to it, so anything you've done is far better than my attempts." He tilted his head as he studied Jack. "Speaking of which, when did you find time to do this? You were keeping me company in the infirmary most of the time."

Jack plopped down on the sofa, stretching his arms along the back of it. "Remember Doc Fraiser's orders for me to go home and get some rest the other day?"

"Yeah, I remember that all right." Daniel smiled, the vision of Janet Fraiser standing before Jack, looking up at him and tapping her foot in agitation still amusing.

"Well I didn't exactly go home." Jack admitted. He got up, grabbing Daniel's bag once more. "I'll just go put this in your room."

"Leave it, Jack. I can get it...later," Daniel finished as Jack disappeared. He got up and walked to the kitchen, figuring he could at least offer Jack some coffee and a sandwich before remembering he hadn't gone food shopping. It had been on his to do list the day he got sick. Sighing, Daniel opened his cupboard door, stepping back when he found them fully stocked. He looked in the refrigerator also finding enough items for meals. The sound of footsteps in the hallway caused him to turn.

"You did this too, Jack?" Daniel pointed to the refrigerator and cupboards.

"You didn't have anything worth eating, Daniel." Jack shrugged. He came to the counter, nudging Daniel out of the way and taking the coffee filters in his hand. "Go in the room, sit down, rest. I can make us coffee. Hey, what did Fraiser say about coffee?"

"Um, nothing?" Daniel tried for innocence personified.

Jack snorted. "Uh huh. Yeah, Iike I believe that."

"She didn't." Daniel looked down at his feet when Jack's expression was one of disbelief. "Well, she didn't. Of course, I didn't ask her, so..."

"It's your stomach, Daniel." Jack pointed with his index finger. "Go in and rest. I'll bring you a cup."

Daniel smiled, "Thanks, Jack." He turned at the door, ready to tell Jack to use the big mugs but closed his mouth when he noticed Jack's position-hands on the counter, head hanging down in an expression of weariness. Much as he wanted to reach out, he knew whatever it was needed time. He backed out of the kitchen, trying to figure out the best way to get Jack to talk, knowing his work was cut out for him. Half an hour later, Daniel was ready to scream; scream or use super glue to keep Jack sitting still. Since he'd brought Daniel a cup of coffee Jack had brought out not one but two blankets when Daniel said the apartment felt chilly. He'd retrieved a pillow when Daniel shifted trying to get more comfortable on the sofa. Coughing because he swallowed the coffee the wrong way had Jack at his side ready to call Janet Fraiser. Quite frankly, Daniel couldn't stand it any longer. Fish or cut bait time, he supposed. He placed the coffee mug on the table and looked at Jack over the top of his glasses. He could see Jack fighting to stay awake, and Daniel tried not to make any noise as he pulled Jack's mug closer. He could at least take the two mugs back to the kitchen and let Jack rest.

"I'll get them." Jack shot forward in the chair and nearly fell in his haste to grab the mugs from Daniel's hands.

"Don't be ridiculous, Jack." Daniel pulled the mugs back. "You're more tired than I am. I'm sure Janet would say I'm capable of carrying two coffee mugs to the kitchen." He swallowed hard, trying to not open his mouth at the yawn that threatened. It would give Jack all the ammunition he needed.

"No!"

Daniel let go of the mugs at Jack's yell, shocked by the vehement response. Jack was shaking his head, speaking in a softer voice, "No, I mean. I'll take care of it."

"Not yet, Jack." Daniel pulled his pillow around and held it across his stomach, bracing muscles that still were sore. "What's going on?"

Jack froze, his hands coming to rest on his thighs and his glance shifting away from Daniel to the bookshelves. When his voice finally came, it was nothing like his usual bluster, "What do you mean, what's going on?"

"I mean, what is all this about?" Daniel gestured at the mugs, the blankets, the whole room. "You've been jumping around ever since we got here. Sit back and relax."

"Yeah, you're right, Daniel." Jack leaned back in the chair. "See, relaxing here."

"Uh huh." Daniel nodded. "You look very relaxed." He leaned back on the sofa cushions watching Jack carefully. Jack was now beating a rhythm on his thighs, tapping his fingers in an offbeat rhythm.

"I thought you were dead." Jack blurted out.

"Dead?" Daniel studied Jack's face, wondering if the agitation was a sign of some neurological event and he should call Janet.

"You know, when I came in here last week." Jack hitched his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

Pieces of the puzzle were snapping into place and Daniel nodded in new understanding. "I wasn't though, Jack."

"You could have died, if I hadn't come." Jack's voice was flat, detached. "Those heart thingys can be fatal, Doc Fraiser told me."

"I could have, but I didn't. You came, Jack." Tread softly, Daniel told himself. "And you were there with me in the infirmary."

"Yeah." Jack sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. "Didn't screw it up this time."

"Didn't screw what up?" Those puzzle pieces he thought were in place were buckling from being forced in position.

"How much of your memory do you have back, Daniel? You know from before?" Daniel didn't flinch when Jack stared at him.

"All of it, well mostly all. I still don't remember what it was like being with Oma and the others or what happened before I wound up on Vis Uban, but the time I've spent on SG-1, I remember that."

"Yeah," Jack got to his feet, walking to the bookshelf and fingering the picture of SG-1. "I figured you remembered all of that."

Daniel put the pillow aside and joined Jack by the bookshelf. He smiled as he looked at the picture in Jack's hand. "I remember that."

His smile wasn't answered with one of Jack's own.

"We used to be friends, Daniel." Jack said, his voice hoarse. "And then things went to hell. Wonder why that happened?"

"We never stopped being friends, Jack. At least I didn't think we did." Daniel shook his head.

"'I've come to admire you a little?' What kind of a fucking goodbye is that to give to your closest friend when he's dying?" Jack slammed his other hand into the wall.

"I didn't need your words, Jack." Daniel said. He took the photo from Jack's lax hand. "Friends don't need words."

"God, Daniel. There was nothing I could do. Nothing."

"You did do something, Jack." Daniel touched Jack's arm. "You let me go. When I asked you to, you let me go."

"Yeah. Let you go. You should have never been lying in that bed in the first place." Jack turned from Daniel, pacing a few steps.

"I asked you because you were the only one who cared enough to do what was right, Jack. I asked you because you are my friend. No one else could have done it, Jack. No one." Daniel saw Jack's shoulders hunch and shake slightly. He placed the picture back on the shelf and stood waiting.

"I didn't want to." Jack's voice was thick, his words coming out almost choked. "I didn't want to let you go."

"But you did." Daniel looked at the picture of the four of them, smiling and looking so much younger. "You're my best friend, Jack. I trust you with my life. I knew I could trust you with my death." Daniel moved away from the shelves, standing in front of Jack. "We've never needed words to say the most important things, Jack. Words are tools, Jack. Useful tools to be sure, but there are sometimes words fail. You were there when I needed you, Jack. Why would I worry about your words when I had you to help me go?"

"It never should have happened in the first place." Jack turned, spitting out the words.

"Do you think I could have stood by and watched a planet being destroyed, Jack? Do you think I could have let you and Sam and Teal'c die because I didn't want to die myself?" Daniel shot back. "Are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing?"

Jack didn't respond, his eyes filled with a sorrow and pain that suddenly had Daniel aware of just what the past year had been like for Jack.

"Jack," Daniel held out his hands in supplication the way he would on meeting an alien culture, "I'm not sorry I did what I did. I'm only sorry it hurt you that I went. I guess I thought...maybe I could make a difference. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."

"You do make a difference, Daniel." Jack's voice was low and rough. "And it was. My fault, I mean. You were under my command."

"Would you have ordered me to not act, Jack?" Daniel pressed. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you would have told me not to do what I did?"

Daniel waited, able to hear the clock ticking and sounds of Jack's breathing and hard swallowing.

"We need you here, Daniel." Jack raised his head, meeting Daniel's eyes, and then to Daniel's relief he smiled, his usual cocky grin. "And you know damn well my telling you not to act wouldn't have made a difference. But God, Daniel, God." Jack took a step closer. "Don't you ever do something like dying again. Understand? Those are my orders."

Daniel's breath came out in a whoosh as he was grabbed into a bear hug so tight he thought his ribs would crack. He couldn't even bring his own arms up to hug back. There was a moistness on his shoulder, and Jack squeezed tightly once more before stepping back and patting Daniel's shoulder.

"I'm glad you came home, Daniel. Back where you belong." Jack said. He looked over to the coffee table. "Guess I'd better take care of getting those to the kitchen."

Daniel shook his head, stepped to the table, grabbed the mugs and handed one to Jack. "How about we take care of it together?" Daniel smiled.

He waited until Jack walked a few steps ahead, taking time to look around the house, realizing that he was home, that he had a home once more. "Jack?"

Jack turned, looking at Daniel, his eyebrows raised in question.

"I'm glad I came home too, Jack. Guess for awhile I forgot what home meant." Daniel said, glancing down into the mug he held.

"And now?" Jack asked.

"Now I know where home was all along." Daniel grinned and followed his friend to the kitchen.

  



End file.
